Alone
by Mainecoon
Summary: Mulder angst!!! And shameless use of a Stephen Sondheim song...


ALONE  
  
A cool breeze blew through the open window and onto Mulder's face. He opened his eyes in the dark room, staring up at the ceiling. Another sleepless night. Another night for his thoughts to go where they pleased, even into the deepest, most secret parts of the man's mind. Already they tip-toed through dusty dreams and memories covered in cobwebs. Already they opened doors rusty with neglect. Already they caught the scent of unwanted nightmares and chased them like pack hounds, coming ever closer to their elusive victim.  
**Alone,** he thought as he sat up in the springy motel bed. **I am alone.**  
His eyes wandered to the open window, out past the wavy glass to the empty street beyond. Or nearly empty, for just then two young lovers walked by. Hand-in-hand progressed to a closer embrace, then a deep, passionate kiss before they disappeared into the night. Mulder tore his eyes from the window and looked angrily down at his hands. **I'm tired of being alone.**  
The revelation struck him hard, stampeding through his mind and heart. **I'm tired of being alone.** He clutched the blankets tightly in his hands. "I'm tired of being alone," he said. "Alone." He repeated the phrase, letting it flow from his lips like a line of poetry, or keeping the words in his mouth-tasting them as if they were a rare wine. He was getting drunk on their hypnotic sound.   
**I am alone,** he thought dejectedly. **I realize it now. Who in my life has ever wanted me? Sam did… but she's…** Mulder squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of memories. His sister's abduction and the neglect that followed, his father coming home drunk, his mother swallowing pill after pill as she cried while the young Fox watched in terror, hiding under the blankets to escape his father's painful blows. After a while, though his father was strong, the physical abuse stopped hurting as much as the fact that Fox knew his father wasn't sorry for it.  
Tears began to fall at last. Mulder fought to hold them back, but the phrase kept repeating itself: **I'm tired of being alone.** Because he knew how true those words were, the tears came despite all efforts to block them.  
Mulder got up off the bed. He felt too vulnerable just sitting there wiping his tears with a corner of the sheet. He went to the window and looked out. A streetlight just outside his window bathed the sidewalk with pale light, but the bushes were shrouded in darkness. He looked up to the sky. Few stars could be seen through the glare of the city lights. He sighed in harmony with the wind. The quiet was somehow calming and unnerving at once.  
"I'm tired of being alone," he whispered. The words came out broken and harsh. Mulder took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. "I'm tired of being alone," he said again. This time his voice was more his own.   
Mulder looked up again into the dark blue above. His voice sounded strangely conversational as he said, "I'd give a lot to not be alone any more… All I want is a little human care. Is that so much to ask? Is it too much for me to want the sympathy I see shown to others?" Mulder stopped, suddenly realizing what he was doing. "This is ridiculous-I've stooped to talking to nightmares." But he didn't want to stop.  
"Lord," he said, beginning again. He didn't say it because he was speaking to The Big Kahoona as much as because he needed to give a name to what he was speaking to. "I'm tired of being alone. I know that you do everything for a reason, but isn't 28 years of loneliness enough? If you're separating me for a reason, at least give me a hint as to what your reason is…" He paused, thinking about his next words. "I've known little love in my life. I can remember every time in many months someone showed me real friendship. I can count the times on one hand! And it can't be normal to feel insanely jealous every time I see two people holding hands, or hugging each other. That must mean I'm missing something."  
Mulder stopped once more as he felt hot tears come to his eyes again. "I'm tired of it. Absolutely tired of it. I almost wish I had the courage to end my own life, but you know what, God? The truth is, I'm a coward. No matter what I do, I'll always be a coward." He shivered a little as the breeze blew onto his bare arms. He suddenly realized the floor was freezing cold under his feet, and he wasn't wearing anything but a tank top and boxers. He turned away from the window, pausing just a moment as he clung to the hope that maybe--just maybe--someone would answer him. But no one did.   
Mulder considered going to Scully's apartment next door, but decided quickly that he didn't want to bother her with his whining. He had already dragged her to the middle of nowhere only to be forced to spend the night in some ratty motel. Instead he shuffled dejectedly to the couch in the so-called living room of the apartment and collapsed onto the couch. He struggled fiercely to fight back the tears he knew would come, and was, for the time being successful. He turned on the television, hoping to get at least some feeling of human companionship. Those people on the infomercials always spoke to the camera as if they really cared about magnetic crock pots. All that magnetism is turning them into charged crack pots, Mulder thought as he switched the channel.  
Just as he had settled on some woman with curly Blonde hair telling her friend about airtight clothing bags, he heard a knock on the door. His brooding was forgotten for the moment as he grabbed his weapon from the table. "Who is it?" he asked, standing to the side of the door.  
"It's me, Mulder, open up." Scully's voice was unmistakable, even through 2 inches of imitation oak. Mulder opened the door.  
"Hello, Scully, what are you doing here?" Mulder tilted his head, confused. "Is something wrong?"   
"I came to ask the same of you. My window was open and I thought I heard you talking." She looked up at her partner's haggard face. "Mulder, have you been crying?"  
"Maybe," he muttered, quickly looking away. "I…was having a nightmare… Why?"  
"Mulder you haven't slept in days." Scully, now in nurturing-female mode, ushered Mulder into the apartment. She shut the door then led him to a seat on the couch. "Now, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting next to him.  
"Nothing, Scully," he replied, trying to sound innocent. "I just had a bad dream, that's all."  
"I don't believe that for a moment, and you know it."  
Mulder sighed, knowing she was right. But she hadn't won yet. Stubbornly, he chose to simply keep his mouth shut and switched on the television again. Scully watched him as he flipped through the channels.  
>click< "Now this vaccuum cleaner is…" >click< "Luuucyyyy!!" >click< "The buffalo, despite its size and strength…" >click< "The hills are aliiiive with the sound of…" >click< "Is that your final answer?" >click< "They're GRRRRREAT!" >click< "Code Blue! We've got a Code Blue here!" >click< "SIMBA!!"   
Scully interrupted Mulder's channel surfing. "Well, if you're alright, I guess I'll leave." She stood up.  
"No!" Mulder quickly turned his attention from the television to her. "Please stay."  
"Why?"   
Damn her manipulative self… "I… because…" Mulder looked away.  
"Good-bye, Mulder."  
"Wait!"  
Scully turned around, her hand on the doorknob. "Well?"  
"I…. I…. I don't want to be alone, Scully." He bowed his head, finally relieved of the weight of his truth. Scully went back to him and sat beside him again. She could see tears on his cheeks.   
"It's alright, Mulder, you don't have to be alone. I'm here now…"  
"No…" he whispered, his voice drowned in tears. "You don't understand…"   
Scully put her arm around his shoulder and drew him close to her. "Yes I do, Mulder." She put her hand on his gently. The touch was wonderful and terrible all at once. Finally, Mulder let go of the tears he had kept inside for so long.  
"Shh, it's alright, I'm here," Scully cooed as she rocked him. Suddenly he seemed so young, so much more Fox than Mulder. He was the little boy Scully knew had been so lost and so alone. "No one is alone, Fox," she said soothingly. For once, he did not object to the use of his name.   
"I… I wish…"   
"Shh… I know, Fox, I know." Scully held in as he sobbed in her arms. When he had calmed down, he said in a voice that could barely be heard, "Will you sing to me?"  
"Sing?" She raised her eyebrows, surprised at the request. He nodded.  
"Before Samantha was taken away, my mother would sing to me when I had bad dreams…" He sniffed. "She stopped doing that after Sam was taken away, though…" The memory brought on a new wave of tears. He clung to her. "Please," he pleaded.   
Scully thought a moment, then began her song.  
  
_Mother cannot guide you,  
Now you're on your own.  
Only me beside you,  
Still, you're not alone.  
No one is alone.  
Believe me, No one is alone.  
  
Sometimes people leave you  
Half way through the woods.  
Others may deceive you.  
You decide what's good.  
You decide alone,  
But no one is alone.  
  
Mother isn't here now.  
Who knows what she'd say?  
Nothing's quite so clear now.  
Feel you've lost your way?  
Someone is on your side.  
No one is alone._  
  
When her song ended, Mulder seemed to sleep peacefully with his head in her lap. Scully smiled, running her hand through his scruffy hair. "Poor little Fox," she whispered. "When will you learn?"  
With that, she tilted her head back against the overstuffed motel couch cushions and slept…  
  
…END…  



End file.
